Haunting Magnolia
by mollybon
Summary: The boys go to Savannah, Georgia to investigate a possible haunted house.  While there Sam discovers that while he's not so shy anymore, he likes girls who are.  SamOFC


Rating: Adult

Pairing: Sam/OFC

Summary: The boys go to Savannah, Georgia to investigate a possible haunted house. While there Sam discovers that while he's not so shy anymore, he likes girls who are.

Author Notes: Warnings: spoiler for AHBL pt II, slight dub-con, language –

My thanks to my beta elanurel

This fic was done for a Het fic exhange on Live Journal and is the main reason for the delay in working on "The Hostage" - I hope to get back to work on "The Hostage" soon.

* * *

Sam Winchester took a sip of coffee as he continued to read the online news story off of the AP wire. Slow news days always seemed to be the best time to find anything that might lead them to a hunt. Sam always found it ironic that in an attempt to make the news more lighthearted, stories about potential supernatural occurrences were found under the _Odd News_ heading.

He found a story in that section about an old plantation house just outside of Savannah, Georgia, that was being renovated into a museum. The main story talked about how almost 80 of the renovations and preparations were being undertaken by college students. Once complete, the museum would be run as a joint venture between four southern colleges' history departments. The house was donated by the family of the original owners after it had been a private home for over 100 years.

Normally, it was a story that Sam would skip right over except for the sidebar next to it. He re-read it again, waiting for his brother to come back from the counter where he was flirting with the barista. After a few minutes, Dean slid into the booth sipping at his coffee.

"So, did you find anything yet?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I think so. This old plantation near Savannah, Magnolia House, is being renovated into a museum. Apparently, it was a private home until about six years ago when it was bought by the local historical society but before that no one lived in it for more than a couple of years. Story goes that the ghosts of the original owners haunt the place and chased the families out," Sam said, turning the laptop around so Dean could see the article.

"Savannah?" Dean said, glancing at the screen. "Dude, do you know how many haunted houses there are in the south? Hell in the whole country?"

"So?" Sam shrugged. "People couldn't live there, you know. Malevolent spirits and all. I thought that's what we did." Dean turned the computer back around and folded his arms on the table.

"Look, Sam, a lot of demons escaped that night. And we're on the clock in a big way here. We don't have time to go look at a haunted house where the worst thing that probably happened was doors closing on their own when we have half of hell to hunt down."

"Yeah I know, I just thought that maybe if…I don't know…if we just did what we always did…" Sam cut himself off and looked out the window. He didn't want to think about the price on his brother's soul, that there was such limited time. He was determined to get his brother out of the deal. Sam shook the thoughts from his head. "You know what, never mind. I was just going to check the lighting strike reports."

* * *

It was expected that the house would make odd noises.

Aside from the fact that it was close to 200 years old and supposedly haunted, the work being done on it meant that things creaked and squeaked more and more. At night, it should have been disconcerting at best, but Tracy had learned to just tune it all out. She didn't believe in ghosts and, even if she did, the work she was doing on the crown molding for the chair rails in the dining room was enough to take up all her concentration.

There had been more layers of stain than Tracy had first thought and the work was taking much longer than she'd have liked. Standing up and stretching her back, she pushed her safety glasses to the top of her head and pulled down her breathing mask. The dinning room was huge, bigger than her apartment. She imagined that it hosted quite the parties in its day, with the best of Savannah society dinning and dancing in the room.

Tracy had heard the stories about the family who originally owned the house and found them sad, not scary. To lose so much…Unconsciously she touched her abdomen and sent up a silent prayer that it wouldn't be too much longer. With her Master's almost complete and her husband well on his way in his career, the timing was perfect.

Humming an old lullaby, Tracy walked around to the other side of the table she was working on. The work lights needed to be adjusted. She'd barely just touched the shade of one when it began to flicker. Electricity to the house had been spotty and there wasn't any sort of phone or Internet connection. The extension cord she was using snaked through almost the entire length of the house to a generator outside. When the light flickered out completely, and the other two followed suit, Tracy presumed something was wrong with the touchy generator.

"Damn it," she sighed, pulling off her gloves. She had slowly picked her way to the dining room door when she heard another noise. It wasn't creaking or groaning. It sounded like someone screaming. Like a woman screaming in pain. Tracy froze, listening.

"Hello?" Tracy called out. She took a few more steps toward the door when she heard the screaming again and a door slamming, hard.

"Is someone there?" she called out again. For a second, she debated heading back toward the work table and getting her cell phone from her bag. Now the screaming was almost non-stop. Someone was hurt badly. Shaking off her fear, Tracy quickly moved for the door. Just as she reached it the door swung forward, slamming shut and locking, trapping her in the room.

"The pain will all be worth it," a voice whispered in her ear.

* * *

Sam let out a sigh as he sipped the cup of coffee next to him. Too many mornings in a row were being spent this way. He'd get up, go to the local coffee shop, get online and try to track any signs of demonic activity. It had been close to a month and they'd gotten nothing. Normally, he liked routine. After spending so many years not knowing what was going to happen from day to day, sometimes from hour to hour, he found comfort in knowing what to expect. That comfort was absent now.

As part of his routine, Sam scrolled through his news source bookmarks. A couple of the stories he'd bookmarked had been updated, including one that almost caused him to leap from his chair. One of the students working on the restoration project in Savannah had gone missing. She was last seen at the house two days ago. Her bag was found underneath a table in the dinning room and there were no signs of a struggle. Sam finished reading the story just as Dean walked into the store.

Stopping at the counter to order a drip coffee, Dean sleepily made his way over to Sam's table. He offered his brother a nod. Sam's response was to turn the laptop towards Dean. Blinking at the sudden brightness that assaulted him, Dean leaned forward and muttered every fourth word of the article out loud:

"Tracy…last…no…found…" He took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah? Okay?" Dean said, turning the computer back towards Sam.

"Dean, she was working alone in the house and is nowhere to be found. I really think we need to go check this out," Sam replied. Dean looked at his brother for a few seconds. "Savannah's not that far from here. We go see if it's for us. If not, we leave," Sam said.

"You know what, Sammy? You're going to make a great lawyer someday," Dean answered.

* * *

The plan came together just as they reached the house. Dean would sniff around the place, see if he could learn anything while Sam would go to the local library and research the history of the house.

"If nothing else, there will be college girls around," Dean muttered as he parked the car down the street from the house. The place felt old. There was history here, the kind that Dean knew was better left alone. The south had a lot of places like that. Dean was sure if there was a case, it was going to be straight out of _Hunting for Dummies_. The sudden renovations of a place this old most likely stirred up spirits that were already restless.

He wasn't convinced that Tracy Gallagher going missing was connected to anything supernatural.

Dean's thoughts were broken by the passenger side door opening and closing. He followed his brother up the street toward the house. The sounds of hammering and power saws became clearer and louder the closer they got. Several small construction trailers sat in the front yard and caution tape wound around the perimeter of the property. Dean stopped alongside his brother as they sized the house up.

The house stood three stories tall. Four columns braced the second level's porch with the first. The lower level's porch wrapped around the house. A total of twelve windows faced the street, four on each floor of the house. Some of them had shutters. A set of broken concrete stairs led from the street to the yard but another set of wooden stairs led from the yard to the porch of the house. The people restoring the place had set up two sets of scaffolding on either side of the house. Dean could see the care with which details had been worked into the outside of the house, from the carving on the street facing eve to the carving in the columns. It didn't give off any sort of "haunted house" vibe but Dean knew better than most that you couldn't judge a book by its cover.

"So I wonder if that's because of Tracy or if it's just to keep people clear of the work?" Sam asked out loud, indicating the bright yellow caution tape.

"One way to find out," Dean said, walking toward the tape. He lifted a section and walked under, Sam right behind him. A few people were in the front going from one place to another but no one said anything to them. Shrugging to each other, they walked across the large yard and up onto the porch.

Sam and Dean picked their way through a front hallway that was littered with plastic sheeting and extension cords. Every few minutes, one of several power tools would echo through the house like a kind of carpentry symphony. So far they were being ignored, probably because they looked like they belonged. Blending in was one of their top skills and it often worked more to their favor when they weren't trying to be deliberate about it.

Dean reached inside his jacket for his home-made EMF and began scanning the hallway with it. He looked up at Sam and shook his head. Nothing was coming up.

"Can I help you?" a male voice asked. They whirled around just in time to see a man about their age carrying several paint cans. He was dressed in painters' coveralls and a backwards ball cap.

"Ah, yeah," Sam started. "I'm Sam, this is Dean and we go to Georgia Tech. We heard about the project and thought we'd come check it out, see if we could help."

"Foreman's trailer is the first one on the left outside. Check in there," the guy answered before pushing his way past them and down the hallway.

Dean waited for the man to disappear into a room before speaking.

"Okay, I'll go check out the Foreman's trailer see if I can't get a job doing something and you go check out the local folk-lore. Pick me up at 5:00," he said, tossing Sam the car keys.

* * *

Sam went to a branch library that was in the neighborhood, hoping that it would have more in the way of history on Magnolia House than the larger city one downtown. He walked up to the information desk and asked for the location of local records. He was shown to a small area in the back of the library where another person, a girl around his age, was working.

She was taking up the only table in the back, papers and books spread around her. She looked up at Sam. Her light brown hair was tucked into a messy knot at the base of her head. Light blue eyes stared at him from behind a pair of glasses. She wore the college student uniform of blue jeans, tennis shoes and a faded t-shirt with a sweatshirt tied around her waist. When she reached up to take off her glasses, Sam realized he was staring a little more intently than he meant to. In the not so distant past, he might have laughed nervously or even blushed. Sam wasn't so shy anymore.

There wasn't much left in the way of inhibitions after you'd been dead for a couple of days.

"Did you need something here?" she asked him, interrupting his thoughts. "On the table, I mean?"

"What? No, I mean I don't know yet. The librarian just said this was the spot for local information. I'm trying to find information on Magnolia House. The house that's being renovated by the college students?" Sam asked.

"Well, you won't have to look too far. I think I have most of it here. I'm working on the house. Well not on the house, just helping to document the history of it," she clarified.

"I'm Sam," Sam said, stepping forward and offering her his hand. She half stood and shook it.

"I'm Lucy," she replied. "Lucy Harris." She offered her last name even though Sam hadn't asked. "So what did you want to know?"

Sam spent the next hour and a half talking with Lucy. In between asking questions about the house, he found himself asking questions about her. One useful piece of information was that she went to the same college as Tracy and knew her through a mutual friend. He didn't need to know that she grew up near Chicago, that she too was the youngest sibling and that by her own admission she'd seen _Gone With the Wind_ one too many times – those were just added bonuses.

Sam missed just talking to someone for the sake of talking and getting to know that person. Lucy was refreshing. She was sweet and shy, not painfully so, but just enough to make her charming. In the absence of his own shyness, Sam was discovering that he liked shy girls. There was an honesty born in that personality that just wasn't always found in the more aggressive, outgoing girls that Dean liked.

As much as he wanted to stay and keep talking with Lucy, Sam had to go pick up Dean. He felt like he had enough information about this house and was now convinced they were dealing with a spirit out for revenge. But he wasn't ready to say goodbye for good to Lucy just yet. Besides, they might need to know more and she seemed to be a walking file cabinet of information on the history of the house.

"So, do you like coffee?" Sam asked.

"Doesn't everybody?" she answered with a smile.

"Where's a good place to meet for coffee around here?" he asked her.

"Well there's Selby's near Greene Square. At least that's where I like to go," she answered.

"Listen, I have to go meet up with my brother but I'd like to talk more later if you want to?" Sam asked. His only motivation was finding out more about the house. At least that's what he told himself. It was all about the job. It had nothing to do with the fact that he enjoyed this girl's company or her slight shyness he wanted to test in a more intimate setting.

"Um, sure that would be really nice," she said tearing off a piece of notebook paper. Lucy wrote down both a phone number and an email address. Sam did the same. They said their goodbyes and Sam told her that he'd get a hold of her later in case they had more questions about the house…or whatever.

* * *

After Sam picked up Dean, they regrouped at their motel.

"Okay, so the original owners of the house were Charles and Elizabeth Hudson," Sam began. "Charles built the house for Elizabeth as a wedding present back in 1865 right after the war ended. Elizabeth died in childbirth five years after they were married. Their baby only lived a few hours after being born. Charles was so torn up that he committed suicide that night. The house was abandoned until about two years later when it was sold to another couple. They only stayed in the house for a couple of years and on and on until some descendents of Charles' family purchased the house and then sold the property to the local Historical Society."

"Any other reported problems with the house, people going missing?" Dean asked.

Sam let out a sigh. "No, there's nothing. From what I can find so far, the people that sold the property were happy when they lived there and then, for whatever reason, just wanted to move. It's a big house so maybe it was too much to take care of? Who knows? I mean there are tales about it being haunted but nothing so bad that kept people from buying the house and living there. But this girl I talked with, Lucy, went to school with Tracy. It sounds like Tracy was the all American girl, lots of friends, no enemies. She said that Tracy would never just take off and not let someone know she was okay," Sam finished.

Dean took in a breath and let it out.

"Look, dude, I hate to say this but I don't think there's anything here for us. I was able to go through almost the whole place with the EMF today and there was zip. I'm sorry this girl is missing but unless we have something concrete pointing to a supernatural bad-ass hurting people, we have to move on," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam sighed, resigned. Dean hated that his brother didn't argue with him. He decided to change the subject.

"So…Lucy huh?"

"Dean, don't," Sam said. Almost a warning. Almost.

"So what is Lucy like?"

"It doesn't matter, Dean," Sam said, moving to sit on one of the beds.

"What do you mean 'it doesn't matter'? Dude, you got her phone number and email address. We've already decided this is a bust so give her a call and you know…get some," Dean said with a smirk.

"She's not like that, Dean."

"Have I taught you nothing? Every girl is like that. Especially the ones that you assume aren't like that. Those are the girls that are most like that of all."

"Are you done?" Sam asked exasperatedly. "Because I can tell you your theory is bullshit. Lucy, she deserves better." Dean knew by the tone of his little brother's voice that all teasing on the subject had stopped. Sam had lost so much - Jessica, then Madison. Dean wanted Sam to have the life that he'd wanted before that November night Dean had picked him up to go look for their dad. Especially if they couldn't get him out of his deal.

"Hey, they don't come much better, you hear me?" Dean said to his brother before standing up. "Take the girl for coffee. I'm going to get something much, much stronger."

* * *

Dean drove to the house and parked across the street from it. He'd take one more pass with the EMF now that the house was empty. If there was nothing, they would leave tomorrow. Easily picking the padlock on the front door, Dean walked inside. He pulled out the EMF and began scanning the hallway, making his way toward the back of the house. He went into the dinning room where Tracy was last working. The EMF didn't so much as beep.

Dean walked out the service door into the kitchen and started up the back stairs. The EMF began to whine and lights that Dean wasn't sure were connected to any electricity began to flicker.

"Well I'll be damned," Dean muttered out loud walking up the rest of the stairs. A faint, muffled scream sounded down the end of the hallway. Dean froze, the EMF whining louder while the lights erupted into a blinking dance that would put strobes to shame. A scream raised the hair on the back of his head. It was a scream of pain, of someone being torn from the inside out. A door slammed. Dean waited a moment more, trying to determine exactly where the screaming was coming from when he heard another door slam and another scream. It was coming from above. Dean pocketed the EMF and ran for the back stairs leading up to the third level.

Dean pounded down to the end of the hallway to the only closed door. The screaming continued as he kicked at the heavy oak door. Then suddenly, silence. Dean froze, listening and then kicked at the door again. It finally gave way and he led the way into the room with his flashlight and gun.

"Anyone in here?" he called out. The room was one he hadn't been in while he'd worked that day but realized, as he looked around, that it was a nursery. The shape of a rocking chair and cradle could be made out underneath white sheets. A large poster bed sat at one end of the room. As far as he could tell, there was no one in the room.

Dean thought back to what he knew about the history of the house. He was convinced now that something was going on here. What didn't make sense is if the spirit had something to do with Tracy's disappearance, why pick her? He counted around twenty-five college age people working on the house that afternoon. That didn't include people who were obviously contractors. So why Tracy?

The only thing Dean did know was that he wasn't quite ready to leave town. Not until they knew for sure that Tracy going missing was connected to whatever spirit was in this house. He needed to get a hold of Sam. They needed to find out more about Tracy.

* * *

"So there are some other stories about the house I found out today," Lucy began, sipping at her coffee. She and Sam met at Selby's, a small coffee-house about a half mile from Magnolia House. Sam had waited until he heard the Impala start up and drive away before calling Lucy and asking her to meet him for coffee. He didn't let himself over think things as he sat across from her.

"Like what kind of stories?" Sam asked.

"Well, supposedly the families that moved in after Elizabeth and Charles died had a hard time conceiving." Sam raised his eyebrows at that statement; it seemed so random and yet made sense. "That's the old time gossip, anyway, but who knows how accurate that is. I guess one family that moved in already had kids and the kids were always sick. When they moved out, poof, they were healthy as horses again."

Sam was going to say something else when Lucy's cell phone rang. She excused herself to answer it and stepped outside. Sam watched her outside the window. Her face froze as she listened to the caller. A shaking hand went to her mouth. She nodded a few times and then slowly closed up the phone before walking back inside. Sam stood and walked up to her.

"Lucy, what is it?" he asked softly.

"That was Patrick. They um…they found Tracy. She's dead," she said softly. Sam gently led her back to the table and helped her sit. "I don't understand," she murmured.

"Where did they find her?" Sam asked.

"Near the back edge of the property at Magnolia House. Patrick said it looked like she bled to death," Lucy answered. Sam was about to speak when his phone rang. It was Dean.

"Okay, Sammy you got your wish," Dean said by way of greeting. "Something is definitely here. I'm not sure that it's connected to this Tracy chick but there's something in that house."

Sam stood from the table and walked a few steps away. Lucy sat with her hands wrapped around her ceramic mug of coffee, staring into it.

"They found Tracy's body, Dean," Sam began. "At the edge of the property. Where are you?" The rumble of the Impala's engine was a hint that Dean was back in the car.

"I was at Magnolia House," Dean replied. "Oh yeah, dude, there are cop cars everywhere down the side street."

"I'm with Lucy right now," Sam said. "I'll bring her home and then meet you back at the motel." Dean gave a low sarcastic chuckle.

"I won't wait up," Dean replied.

"Yeah, whatever, bye," Sam said hanging up, not even dignifying Dean's comment with a response.

Sam walked back over to the table that Lucy sat at. "Hey," he said softly, sitting down. "I'm sorry about Tracy."

Lucy shrugged. "I didn't know her all that well. We weren't even really friends. It's just…I was going to stay that night and maybe…maybe if I did than she'd be okay…" Lucy's voice trailed off as she stared back into her coffee.

"You don't know that," Sam replied softly, his hand covering her arm. "You might have gotten hurt, too."

"I'm sorry," Lucy said, sitting back in her chair. "Would you mind walking me home?"

Sam's stood up and offered her his hand.

* * *

The street Lucy lived on wasn't far from the coffee shop. They made their way slowly down it. Twilight had long since past and a night-time quiet hung over the trees. The air was warm, humid, and heavy with the musk of night blooming flowers. It was a heady combination that reminded Sam of good sex and he immediately chastised himself for the thought given the circumstances.

Lucy was quiet. He hated bringing up the subject of Tracy but they had to know some things. Lucy had said she too should have been working that night and the thought of anything happening to her caused Sam's breath to catch.

"So who's Patrick?" Sam asked casually.

"He's a friend of Mike's, Tracy's husband," Lucy answered.

"Wait, Tracy was married?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, she and Mike got married last year. They were going to start a family soon," Lucy replied. She stopped and turned to face Sam. "Do you believe in ghosts?" she asked.

Sam took in a silent breath. _If you only knew._ "I guess so, maybe," Sam replied. "Why?"

"It's just…never mind," Lucy said, turning away to keep walking down the street.

Sam stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. "What?" he asked. She shook her head and let out a self-depreciating laugh. "Look, I promise whatever you're going to say I won't think it's stupid." He reached out and traced the side of her face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She trembled slightly and Sam fought the urge to start kissing her.

"What I didn't get to tell you was that people think the house is haunted and that Elizabeth's ghost torments women who have lived there and have tried to get pregnant. When the project first started, this one woman, Rene, had a miscarriage after working in the nursery. And now Tracy's trying to get pregnant and this happens?"

"So, you think that Elizabeth's ghost murdered Tracy?" Sam asked her.

Lucy turned around and started walking again. "I know it sounds insane. I mean, I hear myself say the words and I know how nuts it sounds."

Sam caught up to her in only a couple of strides. "What if I told you that I believed the stories?" he asked. She stopped and looked up at him. "And…" he said taking in a deep breath. He was about to violate the _Winchester Don't Ask Don't Tell_ policy and it was going to go either one of two ways – either she believed him or she was going to run up the street screaming that she was with a lunatic. "And what if I said that's why I was in town. That my brother Dean and I are here to stop Elizabeth before she hurts any more people? And that I need your help?"

Lucy didn't say anything for a few seconds. Sam knew the look on her face all too well. It was the slow processing of information that you knew deep down was the truth but that the logical part of your mind told you wasn't possible. She took in a breath and opened her mouth until finally she sighed and said, "So you think that Elizabeth's ghost is really hurting these women?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "I do."

"And you need my help?"

"Yeah, I do," Sam said with a smile. "But let's just get you home for now."

They made their way down the block to a small house at the end of the street.

"This is me," Lucy said, unlatching the front gate. "Well, that's actually me," she clarified pointing to a window above the unattached garage. She turned around to face him but wouldn't look directly at him. The shyness that had attracted him to her seemed to be back in full force. "Um, where are you staying?" she asked.

"Oh, ah, not that far actually," Sam said. It was a lie. He and Dean were actually staying in a cheap motel on the outskirts of town.

Lucy began playing with the strap of her bag and looking anywhere but directly at Sam's face. "I, um, I don't normally ask - I mean, invite, people…boys…men," she stumbled and, with each word, Sam knew she was blushing fiercely. She finally took in a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. "Sam, would you like to come up?" she asked.

Sam walked inside the gate and latched it behind him before following her to the garage.

* * *

Sam and Lucy slowly walked up the outside staircase to the mother-in-law apartment she was renting for the summer. When they reached the door, Sam realized he'd been here exactly three other times before - Stacey in high school, Jess and then Madison. Three first times that had meant so much to him. He found it ironic that he and his brother could have such differing points of view when it came to women and sex. Sam wanted it to mean something, to know that it wasn't just going to be for one night.

Lucy was going to be the fourth. Sam knew it the second that Dean called and told him they were going to stay. Sam could give her more than just one night, maybe not much more but enough for her to know she meant more than just a quick roll in the sheets.

When Lucy took her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door, Sam noticed that she was shaking slightly as she turned the key in the lock.

Lucy walked into the room and turned on a table lamp, filling the room with a soft glow. The apartment was essentially a studio. Off to the side, a white old-fashioned dressing screen hid what Sam assumed was her bed and a small kitchenette was tucked in the back corner. Two doors were on the back wall and Sam assumed one led to the bathroom. The small space felt homey with pictures on the walls and in frames on a bookshelf, even a vase of flowers and a tablecloth on a little dinning room table.

Lucy had taken off her jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked. She didn't move from her spot behind the chair, her hands gripping the top of it. The chair was a shield.

Her uncertainty turned him on. That should have bothered him but there were things Sam was discovering about his supposed "destiny" that skirted a line he used to be afraid to cross. He found that if he just toyed with it a little, met it half-way, he wouldn't be consumed by it. If he was going to save Dean, Sam needed to embrace the part of himself he'd been fighting off for so long. Wasn't so long ago, though, that he would have just said good night.

He took a couple of steps toward her. She didn't move. "Sam?" she asked and he realized she was waiting for an answer to her earlier question. "I think all I really have is soda."

"That's fine," he answered, watching her walk to the small refrigerator. She returned to the table with two cans and held one out to him. He crossed the rest of the way to her and took the can from her, setting it on the table before taking her face in his hands. He bent down to kiss her, startling Lucy into a gasp, and he took advantage of her open mouth. She tasted like the caramel latte she'd had, at once rich and sweet and slightly bitter.

His hands went from her face to the back of her head, down to the small of her back pushing her closer to him. She was up on the balls of her feet her hands on his face and she was pushing back, pulling away from him.

"Stop, stop," she gasped, breathing heavily and swallowing hard. "I think…I think you should go," she said. She pulled away from him but he kept his arms around her. Sam traced the side of her face with his finger. Her skin was so soft. He wanted to know if the rest of her body felt that way, to feel her softness underneath him.

Sam bent his head and kissed the side of her face, trailing his mouth down her neck and over to her throat. He touched the base of her throat where her collarbone met with his lips and she jerked with a gasp. "Sam, please," she whispered, her body twisting to get out of his grip.

Sam loosened his hold on her and she twisted the whole way free, taking three steps back from him. Her hand went to the spot on her throat where he'd kissed her. "Sam, I'm sorry, but I can't." There were tears in her eyes. Sam didn't think it was from fear, exactly – more, disappointment and regret – and Sam wondered just how far she'd gone. Dean claimed there were no virgins left in the world - that if you found one who was willing, it was a gift from above.

Sam took a step toward her but Lucy took another step away from him. "I'm sorry, I never should have asked you to come up. I thought maybe…" She shook her head sharply. "It doesn't matter."

"I want you, Lucy," Sam said simply. She blinked at him. He took another step toward her and she didn't move. "Does it help at all to know that?" He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him. "I want to be buried deep inside you," he whispered in her ear, smiling at the shiver he felt go through her body. He tugged at the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, discarding his own once he was done. "It's okay," Sam breathed into her mouth. He could feel her pulling away again.

"Sam, I really – _really_ - don't think that I can do this."

Sam pulled back enough to look in her eyes. He didn't let go of her. "Have you ever?" Sam asked. If she said no he was prepared to stop.

_Maybe._

"I'm not a virgin if that's what you're asking," she replied softly. Sam let his hands rub up and down her arms. "I just…I don't want to be a conquest, or part of a tally of some kind."

Her reluctance suddenly clinked. Back in college, Sam knew guys that thought nothing of sleeping with girls like Lucy just for the sake of having sex. Names, personalities - nothing mattered but how much pussy they got. Some girls were just as bad but others, girls like Lucy, were scarred by it. Lucy didn't know that Sam wasn't one of those guys. She was so shy that Lucy probably didn't see how a guy could want sex with her just because she was her. Sam wasn't leaving until he showed her.

Sam gently pulled her back towards him, his hands moving from her waist to her hips as he pressed her into him. "Do you feel that?" he asked her, grinding himself slightly against her. "That's because of you. I've been hard like this most of the night because of you," Sam said, leaning down and capturing her mouth with his.

She began kissing him back, opening her mouth voluntarily to let him inside. His hands skimmed up her lower back to the clasp of her bra and Lucy gasped into his mouth when the material fell away from her breasts. Sam let his hands roam over the now bare upper half of her body. He didn't focus on any one place, just let her get used to the feel of his touch on her naked skin. She was soft like he'd hoped and he ached to touch her all over.

Sam guided them to her bed and fumbled with his jeans and socks. He pulled a condom out of his wallet and placed it on the nightstand. Lucy's hands were tracing a hesitant pattern on his upper body, mirroring what he'd just done on hers. When her hands reached his stomach, Sam's muscles clenched. She pulled back quickly, like she'd been burned. Sam took her hands in his and placed them back on his stomach. "That meant I liked it," he said gently.

Sam bent them both backwards onto the bed, stretching himself over her and realizing just how small she was as she lay beneath him. He began kissing her neck, finding the place at the base of her throat that had made her shiver earlier, he nipped. Lucy's hands went to his hair. He followed a path with his mouth straight between her breasts, his hands tracing down her sides and then over to the undersides of her breasts. Sam's thumbs barely grazed her nipples before they puckered and immediately rose in response. Lucy's breath caught when Sam's mouth moved to her right nipple, nipping and sucking and causing small moans. He gave the same treatment to the left, his hands drifting down to her stomach and the button on her jeans.

Quickly, he pulled Lucy's jeans and panties off and her hips lifted of their own accord to help him. She was beautifully naked before him, her skin was flushed with splotches of pink and red. Sam quickly shrugged out of his boxers. His hand caressed the skin on the inside of her thigh, walking up and over to the center of her. His fingers parted her. Two of them slid easily into her, the muscles tightening around him.

When his thumb found her clit and began teasing it, Lucy's hands gripped at the sheets. "I could make you come like this," Sam breathed into her mouth. A third finger joined the other two and, with pure animal instinct, her hips lifted to meet his thrusts. Sam slowly withdrew his fingers.

"Sam," Lucy gasped.

Sam sat back and grabbed the condom he'd placed on her night stand. He rolled it on himself in record breaking time. Lucy half sat up when he came back down to the bed and reached for his face, initiating their kiss. He stretched himself over her.

"Lucy, look at me," Sam said to her. She'd closed her eyes but Sam wanted to watch her as he took her. After she slowly opened her eyes, Sam shifted and slid gradually into her. He raised himself up over her, smoothing his hands over her face and down to her breasts - his mouth following the same trail. The lower part of his body didn't move, a discipline he didn't know he possessed keeping him still inside of her. She was so hot, so wet, so _tight_ that it was agony. Lucy raised her hips but Sam pushed them back into the bed, his hands gripping her so tightly he knew she'd bruise.

"Sam, please," she begged.

Sam smiled into a breast as he bent down to nip at it. "Please what?" he said teasing. She grunted in frustration and tried raising her hips again. He ground the lower half of her body with his own, pushing her into the bed. Lucy made a noise that was half scream, half gasp. He looked down at her. "You have to tell me what you want," he whispered to her.

"Move," she whispered back, her voice breaking. "Please…you have to…please move."

Slowly Sam withdrew from her. "Like this?" he asked, slowly pulling all the way out of her. Her hands gripped at his arms, her nails digging. He bent his head down to her mouth. "Or like this?" he said, thrusting hard back into her and capturing her scream with his mouth.

Twice more he withdrew slowly and thrust back hard. Both times, Lucy cried out his name. A fine layer of sweat formed on her body, giving her skin an erotic glow in the soft lamp light. Sam watched her eyes shine with something akin to making a discovery and he wondered if any of the stupid college guys she'd been with had ever made her come.

"Sam? Sam, please, I need…"

It was a question, a request - a demand.

Sam Winchester would never deny a lady. Interlacing her fingers with his, Sam moved and this time didn't stop. His thrusting answered her question, her request and her unspoken demand. He felt Lucy's muscles tighten and he shifted their positions again so that he was impossibly deep inside her.

"Sam!"

"It's okay, Lucy. Let go. Let go and come for me," Sam said, breathing into her neck. Another hard thrust and he felt her tighten so much so that he almost couldn't pull out. Her hands gripped tight, her nails digging into the backs of his hands. She cried out as Sam's own orgasm ripped through his body.

Both lay still for a moment after it was over. Sam could feel Lucy's heartbeat, a slowing rhythm, against his chest. He raised his head and unlocked his fingers from hers. He felt something else from her. It was almost like gratitude. He carefully pulled out of her and she winced slightly. Sam went into the bathroom and disposed of the condom but he came back with a wet washcloth and softly ran it over her body.

"Are you staying?" she asked quietly.

Sam placed the cloth on the bedside table and climbed into the bed with her. Pulling the coverlet from the end of the bed, he wrapped his arms around her.

It wasn't long before they were both asleep.

* * *

Sam woke up to the smell of brewing coffee. He opened his eyes just enough to confirm that he wasn't dreaming. He was still in Lucy's bed, surrounded by the fresh scent of linens that hadn't been washed in industrial strength cleaner. Both scents were rare in his world now.

He watched as Lucy appeared from out of the bathroom, a well-worn yellow terry cloth robe wrapped tightly around her. Her hair, wet from the shower she'd taken, hung freshly combed down her back. He sat up and watched her take two coffee mugs from a cabinet and fill them both with coffee.

"Hey," he said softly to her.

She turned around. "Morning," she said softly. "I hope that I didn't wake you?" Lucy asked, bringing the two mugs of coffee to the bed. She sat on the edge and handed him one.

"It's a nice way to wake up," Sam replied. Mindful of the full mug of hot coffee, he leaned over and kissed her softly. "How are you?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers.

"I'm good," Lucy replied, returning his kiss. She stood up. "I need to get dressed and get to the library." She told him where he could find clean towels and let him know he could help himself to anything he wanted to eat. Sam sighed as the door closed behind her. He couldn't let himself get sucked into normal. He'd lost that when he lost Jess and just when he'd thought maybe…maybe he could have a semi-version of it…he'd lost Madison.

The Winchesters didn't get to have normal; not without costing those they loved everything.

Sam and Dean met Lucy at the library later that morning. In spite of Dean's almost constant nagging for details, Sam kept his mouth shut. The only thing he would tell Dean was that he told Lucy about what they did for a living. Dean seemed more surprised that the girl believed in ghosts than that Sam had told her what they did.

Sam led the way toward the back where he'd met her the day before. Just like the day before she sat surrounded by books and papers. Dean looked from Lucy to his brother and back again.

"That's Lucy?" Dean asked Sam. "Nice."

"Dean just…don't be yourself, alright?"

"What do you mean, don't be myself? Myself is adorable Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes and stepped in front of his supposedly adorable older brother. "If you say so," he muttered under his breath before smiling and saying hello to Lucy.

Sam introduced Lucy to Dean without much incident – the worst that came out was _"So you're the girl who kept my brother out all night."_ Sam reminded himself to thank Dean later.

"I found out where Elizabeth is buried, like you'd asked," Lucy said, handing Sam a piece of paper. "She's interred in her family's crypt in Laurel Grove Cemetery. What are you going to do?"

"You really don't want to know," Dean answered her. For a second Sam considered telling her - they'd find Elizabeth's grave, salt and burn her bones and that should be that. It also meant that they'd have no real reason to stick around after tonight.

"Are you really going to be able to get rid of her?" Lucy asked.

"After tonight, she shouldn't bother anyone else again," Sam answered.

Lucy gave him a relieved smile. "Can you meet for coffee again tonight? After you do, whatever it is you do?" she asked Sam.

"Yes, he can," Dean answered.

Sam shot Dean a glare over Lucy's head.

"I'd love to," Sam replied.

* * *

The salt and burn job was complicated slightly by the fact that Elizabeth had been 'buried' in a crypt. It wasn't the first time they'd had to deal with that situation and Sam was secretly grateful that he wasn't going to have to spend a couple of hours digging in dirt before having to go meet Lucy.

"Should I not wait up again?" Dean asked as they packed their equipment back into the Impala.

"I don't know, Dean. Maybe it's not such a good idea," Sam said over the hood of the Impala. Forget about if walls could talk. The hood of that damn car could write multiple books about conversations it had overheard through the years.

"Hey, you know I might not be around much longer…" Dean began.

"Don't start with that, Dean. I'm not letting that happen. You hear me?" Sam demanded.

"All I'm saying is that Lucy's the kind of girl you can come home to," Dean said getting into the car. They drove in silence to Selby's. Dean parked the car at the end of the small parking lot. Through the window, Sam could see that Lucy was already there. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning, bright and early so you know try and get some rest," Dean teased as Sam got out of the car.

"Jerk," Sam said shutting the door. He didn't have to hear it to know that Dean called him 'Bitch.'

The night was a replay of the night before. They had coffee and then Sam walked Lucy back to her apartment. When they got to the gate, she turned to him.

"I want you to come up. And this time, I am absolutely sure," she said with a smile, taking his hand and leading him through the gate. When they got to the door, Sam stopped her.

"Look, Lucy, I think that it's only fair that you know that my brother and I have to leave tomorrow morning. And I don't know when I'm going to be back. I don't know if I'm going to be back."

Lucy nodded and turned back to unlock the door. "I'm glad that you told me," she said pushing the door open. "Are you still coming in?"

She barely had the door shut and locked when Sam was kissing her. The rough demanding kisses of the night before were replaced with soft, tender ones. Everything moved at half speed, hours spent making love before falling asleep wrapped up in each other's arms.

* * *

Sam woke up to the rumble of the Impala. Slowly and carefully, he disentangled himself from Lucy. He stroked her hair, the side of her face and bent over to kiss her lightly before covering her with the sheet. He dressed as quietly as he could and used the bathroom before going to the kitchen.

He found coffee and filters and started a pot of coffee before stepping out on to the landing to quietly shut the door behind him.

Dean was waiting.

They had work to do.

_fin_


End file.
